To Run Parallel but Never Cross
by AvedlyTres
Summary: The relationship started 27 years ago and yet they still have to even meet. Their lives run parallel to each other, but have never crossed and now with the two seeking council from the same psychiatrist, will the seemingly two fated people finally meet?
1. Chapter 1: Ichigo's Trepidation

_This is going to be a really short short story, probably only three chapters_

* * *

The psychiatrist's eyes were glazed over in thought as he stared down at the two patient files in front of him.

It was illegal to share patient information with anyone but those allowed by the patient. It wasn't permitted and he knew it went against the laws of health information protection laws. He could lose his license to practice, his whole occupation taken from him and the years of work he had gone through to become a psychiatrist would become worthless.

But …

--

--

--

As of late, the thirty two year old artist, Kurosaki Ichigo had been suffering from an anxiety. An anxiety due to the feeling that he was missing something, missing something very important to his life, a key part of his being that had somehow eluded him.

The worry had been there for quite awhile, in fact it had been there for more than a decade but recently, the feeling of angst had seemingly begun to increase in intensity. He could no longer push it to the back of his mind.

His artwork production had come to a halt as he finally began to spend more time wondering what nagged his consciousness instead of working on the intricate paintings that were his trademark.

Nothing was wrong with his mind itself, at least according to MRIs and with no solid medical diagnoses he had decided to enter into the field of psychiatry in an attempt to ease his preoccupations. With reluctant foot falls, he strode into the office of the psychiatrist.

The quiet ambiance did no ease on his nerves as he cautiously made his way to the front desk set in the middle of the pale yellow colored entrance room. He set an arm on the dark wooden surface of the desk, "Uh, hi."

The dark haired lady sitting behind the desk looked up at him, smiling and holding up a finger indicating that she would be with him in a minute. She continued her speaking into the phone as she wrote down a name on her calender, "All right Miss Kuchiki, we'll see you tomorrow then," she said, "Have a good day," she placed the phone down on its stand, ending the call and turning her attentions to Ichigo, "Thank you for waiting and hello there, how can I help you?"

Ichigo glanced at the large analog clock on the wall behind the desk, "I have an appointment here at three o'clock."

She looked down a sheet of paper, running her finger down a grid, "Ah, Mr. Kurosaki is it? Yes, please go right in." She pointed towards the door on the right side of the desk, "The first door on the left please."

Ichigo nodded, bowing his head slightly in thanks. He pushed through the door, making his way down the carpeted hall and with slight hesitation, opening the door on the left hand side of the hall.

A large couch, like the ones he had always heard about, was pressed against the wall on one side of the room. Another chair, a dark brown leather recliner, sat less than five feet away from the head of the couch. Ichigo's feet carried him away from the couch, across the ornate autumn colored rug. He sat down in one of the two chairs facing a large oak desk, upon which sat various items of office work.

He nervously pulled on his long sleeved shirt, his eyes wandering about the room as he waited. The bookshelves behind the desk housed multitudes of books. Works by Skinner, Pavlov and.

He got to his feet, walking around the large desk to pull a book from the shelf. He stared at the emblazoned cover, his fingers running over the title, "Minghun: The Chinese tradition of Marriage After Death."

He ran a careful thumb down the edge of the book's cover, and opened the book to the first chapter.

_"In China, the Minghun or ghost marriage was a marriage in which one or both parties are deceased. These marriages were usually set up in advance by the family (the parents) of the deceased and for varying reasons dependent on the family's background and cultural influences. One of the main reasons behind matrimony of the dead, was the family's want of a spirit companion for the spirit of the deceased in the world of the afterlife. The rites of ghost marriages …"_

"Something catch your interest there, Mr. Kurosaki?"

Ichigo jumped, the book almost falling from his hands as he turned to see a smiling man, clad in a suit, standing behind him. The man held out his hand to Ichigo, and took his hand in his own in a firm handshake. "What book is that?"

Ichigo held the book up, the cover facing outward, nervously making his way back from behind the desk to the chair he had been sitting in. The man took the book gently in his own hands, flipping through a few pages until he merely nodded his head and shut the book with a quiet thump.

He seemed completely unperturbed by Ichigo's slight invasion into his property and merely cast him another look of curiosity before placing the book down on the desk between them.

"Where to start?" he said, sitting down in the chair behind the desk. He placed his elbows on the desktop, pressing his fingertips together and leaning forward. "Mr. Kurosaki, I was told that you sought my help, due to advise from your father."

Ichigo nodded, normally he wasn't one to take his father's advice, but this anxious sense of unease was driving him insane so he was willing to try almost anything keeping in emphasis the word almost. "Yes, lately, I've been experiencing an unsettling feeling of stress. Like I'm about to remember or encounter something, but there is one last obstacle blocking the recovery of the memory."

The man across from him nodded, closing his eyes momentarily in thought. "I see, and you have no idea what may be causing this feeling of unrest."

Ichigo fixed him with a serious looks, "Well," he hesitated. He didn't like to share his personal thoughts with just anyone, heck he had never even shared this particular theory of his with anybody at all.

The psychiatrist watched him with interest, an understanding glint in his eyes, "Please, feel free to tell me anything. All that passes between us here is private."

Ichigo paused another second, "Well," he paused, grasping about for the words that fit his dilemma, "it's almost the feeling of waiting. Waiting for someone, a very certain someone, that I've been seeking my whole life and I've seen her but just haven't been able to meet her."

"So, this person is female? How do you know?" there was no skepticism in the man's words as his faced remained clad in interest.

"It's just part of the feeling I have."

The psychiatrist minutely nodded his head, his eyes downcast in thought. He reached out, sliding the book along the polished surface of the desk, back towards Ichigo. "Is there any particular reason you chose this book?"

Ichigo took the book gently back into his hands, a bit concerned at the sudden change in the course of conversation. "Well, I've heard of this before, the marriage that is. My father once told me that I used to be in a ghost marriage."

--

--

--

The young, orange haired boy lay in the infirmary in the hospital in London. The sweat beaded his forehead and his breathing was heavy and labored. The dimmed lights cast faint shadows on the scantily furnished room and the boys white, linen sheets did not duty in lightening the room's decor. The beeping was the only sound that accompanied the boy's breaths and the window's view was blocked by the long white drapes that reached to the floor, down past the bench built into the wall.

The only other person in the room was a weary looking man who sat in a chair near the bedside, his head held in his hands. The man's black slacks and white button down shirt were wrinkled from the long hours he had most likely been spending at the hospital.

"Father," the young boy murmured, opening his heavy lidded eyes with great effort.

The black haired man, sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed, raised his head and reached out to take the frail hand of the small boy.

"Ichigo," he said reaching forward with his other hand to dab at the boy's forehead with a cool rag, "my son."

"Father, I don't want to die," Ichigo whispered quietly, his eyes drooping in slumber again. "I don't want to be all alone and never see you, or mother or any of my friends again …"

His eyes closed and he dropped off into sleep again. His ailment was getting worse and nothing seemed to be reversing the effects of the illness. His father got to his feet, adjusting the sheets to tuck the upper edge under his son's chin.

Kurosaki Isshin sighed, gently patting down his son's bangs and turning on heel, tucking his hands into his pocket as he quietly strode from the room.

"Mr. Kurosaki, what seems to be the matter?"

Isshin diverted his attentions from the coffee machine he stood before. "Urahara, how did you sneak into the hospital?"

The blond haired man smirked, adjusting the long black overcoat he wore over his clothing. "Just because they don't appreciate my methods of medical practice doesn't mean that I'm not allowed in the hospital anymore."

Isshin chuckled, pressing the button for a double shot coffee. Both men waited in silence, watching the steaming black liquid flow into the cup. Isshin knew why Urahara was there, after all he had asked him to come, but the matter for which he had come had both positive and negative implications.

Urahara cleared his throat, falling into step beside Isshin as both made their way down the white halls of the hospital, back to the room Ichigo was in.

"How is your son?" Urahara finally asked.

With a rather forced smile, he answered, "He's stable and we are still hoping for a full recovery."

Urahara nodded, "I looked into your request and found a possible candidate."

"Good, name the price."

"Well," the two men stopped outside Ichigo's hospital room door. Urahara continued, "You see the girl I found, the one for Ichigo's ghost marriage, like your son, she hasn't passed away yet."

With wide eyes, a five year old Kurosaki Ichigo strained to hear the voices coming from outside his door. They were talking about him, but what exactly it was about he was unsure. He had never heard of ghost marriages before.

"So, the marriage can't be done?"

"No, not necessarily. I still haven't put the request forward to the girl's guardians yet. Usually though, these ghost marriages I arrange are between two children that are dead already. It is unusual, if not unheard of, that the parent makes the request for a child to be married off before death has occurred." Urahara leaned against the wall, his gaze cast downward, "So my friend, what is the reasoning for you requesting such a marriage for your son? Have you given up hope already?"

Isshin suddenly looked tired, drawn and stressed, the illness of his son finally appearing on his features. "My wife, Ichigo's mother, has become ill. She has been overtaken with a disease similar to Ichigo's but it is advancing much faster than my son's. It was by her request that I arrange this marriage so my son's soul will not be lonely in the afterlife, only in the case that the situation presents itself."

Ichigo's breath hitched and he felt a huge pang of despair shoot through his heart. His hands balled into fists and his eyes began to water, the resulting tears spilling over to streak down his cheeks.

Outside in the hall, Urahara nodded, a saddened manner in his mood. "Very well, I will extend the offer to the family and return with their answer." Urahara pushed off the wall, giving Isshin a pat on the shoulder and making his way back down the white halls of the hospital. "I still wish your son luck."

"Thank you," Isshin stared after him, rubbing his chin in thought. He cleared his throat, "Can I ask you a question?"

Urahara stopped, glancing back over his shoulder, "Go ahead old friend."

"The girl, Ichigo's potential partner, what is her name?"

"Her name," Urahara gave him one last look before facing forward again and continuing his walk, "her name is Kuchiki Rukia."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2002_

Kurosaki Ichigo had had a rather hard life. He had suffered from an illness when he was younger, barely surviving the battle and soon after his recovery, he had lost his mother.

The grief had been indescribable but something from those days, from the days he had spent in the hospital, had stuck with him. He wasn't sure if it related to his mother's death or to the illness itself, but whatever it was now seemed to permanently dwell in the back of his mind.

"No father it is fine," he said into his cell phone, trying to get his as ever extravagant father to hang up. "I will be fine tomorrow. Yes, I'm staying here, I still have class after all."

Now eighteen years old, Kurosaki Ichigo was as healthy as ever. He attended college at Belmont, and as a freshman was eager to prove himself. The first two terms had passed by without incident, Ichigo's grades near the top of his class and his popularity was ever increasing with each class he took.

Ichigo stood in line in the coffee shop, waiting to get his daily caffeine fix. The small coffee shop was abuzz with the midday rush, the line for ordering stretching halfway across the wooden floor of the café.

"Dad, I have to go, I'll call you tomorrow, some time late at night." Ichigo shut his phone, cutting off is father's long winded goodbye. He glanced about the shop, the back of his mind nagging creeping up into his consciousness. Something was different about today, it was as if his body was ready for an amazing experience of some kind. He just wished he knew what this was supposed to be.

"Um hello?"

Ichigo shook himself from his thoughts, staring down at the blond haired girl behind the counter of the café.

"Oh, sorry," Ichigo smiled easily, not realizing that he had already made it up to the front of the line. He tucked is phone into the front pocket of his black jacket, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. "Uh, could I get a black coffee please?"

"Will that be it?"

"Yep."

Having handed over the money, receiving his change and tipping accordingly, Ichigo walked further down, to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. He shuffled aside, trying his best to avoid the melee of people that swarmed about the crowded shop. He glanced down at his watch, "Crap I'm going to be late."

Ichigo looked up, his eyes searching for his order as he pondered whether or not he could risk being late to his art class. The college campus was only a short walk away, but he was already cutting it close on his timing.

A guy behind the counter set a lidded coffee cup on the pick up counter, calling out, "Coffee black."

"Thanks," Ichigo shouted, grabbing the cup and turning to weave his way through the crowd. He hustled off to the campus, his bag slung over his shoulder and coffee in hand. Pushing the button for the crosswalk signal across the busy road, Ichigo waited on the sidewalk, glancing down at his watch again.

"Excuse me," a female voice called, catching Ichigo's attention. Despite his hurry, Ichigo turned looking down the walkway, back in the direction of the café. A slender girl, with raven hair, was waving at him, a coffee cup just like his clasped in her hand.

"Please wait a moment," she said, stopping near him and catching her breath. She held up the cup to him, "Excuse me," she said with a smile, "I believe you have my coffee."

Ichigo glanced down at his coffee, trying to recall if he had indeed made a mistake, "I thought this was a black coffee though."

She shook her head, her smile widening to display her perfectly straight, white teeth. "No, I'm guessing you ordered a black coffee," she pushed the coffee cup in her hand into his free hand. "This," she took the other coffee cup, "is a _coffee black_," she shook her head at the name. "I don't know why the names are so similar. This coffee here has double shot of caffeine and dark chocolate flavoring."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile too, a chuckle leaving his lips. "How ridiculous," he said, his eyes unconsciously falling to his watch again. "Shoot I'm late now."

He pressed the crosswalk button again, amazed that the light changed soon afterwards. "Thanks," he called, waving over his shoulder at the girl as he sprinted across the street.

She waved back, "You're welcome."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2003_

There it was again, that tugging on the corner of his unconscious. It had been awhile since he last felt it, if he had to, he would have to estimate almost a year.

"Brother," a voice pulled him from his own preoccupations.

Ichigo looked down, smiling at his younger, dusty-blond haired sister. "Sorry Yuzu, just a bit preoccupied," he held out a hand to the girl. His sister took his hand, pulling him through the gateway that led into the town fair.

Ichigo was surprised that he had somehow been dragged to this dumb fair, but Ichigo wasn't one to be a bad elder brother and when his sisters asked, he had given in. He had two younger sisters, fraternal twins that were three years younger than him.

Yuzu and Karin were exact opposites. Yuzu's sweet and motherly nature keeping the family fed after their mother's passing and Karin's tomboy attitude keeping Yuzu from harm. The girls were now in high school and missing their brother had come to visit him.

Ichig would have been ok with this if it hadn't been for his crazy father also coming along with the girls. They had all three busted into his small apartment, that he shared with his friend, and had basically kidnapped Ichigo to take him to the town fair of all places.

"Come on, come on son," his father called, dancing ahead of him, "why the scowling face my boy?"

"This is how my face always looks old man," Ichigo rolled his eyes. He followed his rambunctious father down the wide pathway between the fair booths. Children ran about the grounds, their parents chasing after them with chiding tones and high schoolers stood about in huddles, all too cocky or at least acting that way to actually get on a ride. Lanterns above head, were strung across from booth to booth and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy saturated the air. Ichigo stared at the packed down dirt of the path below, trying to make it look as if he was in no way in the same party as the crazy man dancing about ahead of him.

In an attempt to get his father to stop singing along to the carnival music that could be heard drifting in the air, Ichigo yelled at his father, "Dad, where are you even taking us anyway?"

His father continued walking on, the destination only known to him as he beckoned his children to follow. "Tada! Here it is," Isshin stopped, waving his arms about and pulling is children into the entrance to the ride of his choosing.

"The tunnel of love?" all three of the Kurosaki children practically yelled reading the gaudy pink sign adorned with hearts over the entrance to a ride.

"Are you nuts old man?" Karin yelled, stomping her father in the face.

"Let's go, let's go," Isshin said sporting two black eyes. With looks of reluctance and wanting to avoid making a scene, Ichigo and his sisters followed their father through the gates and down the stairs to the back of the small line of people waiting to board the ride. Much to Ichigo's chagrin but not much of a surprise, a large majority of the line was composed of giggly and hormonal high schoolers. The ride's operator, a sweaty, slightly overweight, middle aged man grunted that the next set of passengers could now board and the line inched forward. Ichigo gave his sisters a look that conveyed the thought of still being able to run away, but Isshin stopped intervened, grabbing Ichigo in a headlock and dragging him down to the edge of the small river in the ride.

"I'm so excited," Isshin was practically glowing as he shoved Ichigo into a swan shaped boat with seating for four. The boat had a swan shaped head attached to the front and large, superfluous feathers of sorts attached to the back.

"Old man," Ichigo landed a square hit on his father's chin, readjusting himself on the low bench as Karin sat down next to him, staring across at his father and Yuzu on the opposite bench. "What the hell?"

"Shh son, you'll ruin the wonderful ambiance."

Trying to avoid a fight, Yuzu intervened before male testosterone caused an upheaval of the gaudy but not very durable boat, "Dad why did you choose this ride?"

The boat began to move, creeping into the dark, heart shaped tunnel. As their eyes adjusted to the darkening setting, Isshin beamed, "To show the family love of course," he said pleased with the idea. "The tunnel of love and our family is rich in love."

Karin rolled her eyes and Ichigo felt what was left of his patience fading as 'lovey dovey' music began to play overhead. "Old man, you do know that the tunnel of love is for couples right?"

"Of course my boy, the smallest family unit is probably a couple, it's hard to have a family by yourself."

"No goat face," Karin came to Ichigo's assistance, "It's for dating couples."

Isshin had a mental light bulb and Ichigo could have sworn he heard a ding go off, "Oh I see, I see," he said, not perturbed by the information at all. "but none of us have dates like that anyway." He pointed at himself, "Daddy is in love with your mommy," he said, maintaining his faithfulness to his dead wife. "The girls are much to young to date."

"We're in high school," Karin interjected.

"And Ichigo," Isshin continued on, "because of his permascowl can't even get a girl to talk to him, let alone date him." Isshin got to his feet, laughing loudly, his hands on his hips and his voice echoing in the small tunnel.

"Dad," Yuzu tugged on the bottom of his Hawaiian patterned shirt, "Sit down please." The boat rocked precariously but Isshin continued prattling on, his words further infuriating his orange haired son.

"I've got it Yuzu," Karin cracked her knuckles.

"I'll help," Ichigo nodded.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2004_

Kurosaki Ichigo followed his professor, taking note to avoid running into the other people of his class. Ichigo's advanced art class was on a tour at the local art exhibit and were to take special note of a piece they found most intriguing.

Ichigo unwound the grey scarf from about his neck, letting the accessory remain hanging and tugged lightly at the collar of his white, long sleeved shirt. He reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling the pen from his pocket and taking his digital camera in hand as his class was given permission to split up and look about the exhibit.

The white painted walls of the room were in great contrast with the colorful art pieces adorning their surfaces and people of all ages stood about, their eyes enjoying the aesthetic feast before them.

With the eyes of an artist, Ichigo carefully made his way through the maze of makeshift walls that held other pieces of art. He wanted, no needed a piece of work that would hold his attention. He preferred work that wasn't just pretty, not the type that you'd find decorating the room in a hotel. Uniqueness was what he sought.

He wandered towards the back of the large room, his eyes wandering but his mind fixated on is task at hand. His vision strayed over the artwork before him, all the works blending together into what he considered run of the mill pieces.

He turned on heel, about to give up and just head back to the front of the building but something did indeed catch his eye. Ichigo slowly made his way over to the low table set in the corner of the room, stooping slightly to gaze at the pottery piece before him. A white vase of sorts sat before him, large ribbon like detail curving intricately about the main form.

It wasn't like he had never seen a vase before, just never one quite like this. It was white, pure white but to add color would have ruined the vase. His body remained in place, his eyes still roaming over the art piece. Ichigo finally looked down, at the tag below. He read the delicate handwriting, musing at the title, "Snow White's Sleeve." The only thing about the piece that displeased him, was the space on the paper after the word 'author.' He heaved a disappointed sigh, "Submitted anonymously?"

--

--

--

_May 17, 2005_

Despite being what most would consider an art nerd, Ichigo still had an important role on the water polo team. He had joined his sophomore year as almost a last minute decision and had turned out to be rather enthralled with the sport.

Today was a rather big match and a long awaited game against his school's rivals. He had his mind set, a full night of sleep and the determination to win. The only problem was that tug at the back of his mind, that seemed to only come about once a year but caused no end to his pondering. No, he didn't have time for that now, he had to get into the game.

The game was progressing at a furious pace, the fouls increasing as each minute went by. Ichigo rested with his team, his face set as his coach tried to come up with a plan to get their team ahead once again. The game was thirty seconds from the end, the opposing team leading by one point and his coach having just called a time out.

Ichigo felt tense, nodding his head to his coach as the team broke, returning to their positions treading water. Ichigo lightly pulled on the strap of his water polo cap, readjusting the band of material as he used strong strokes to make his way towards the other team's goal.

A goal, just one goal and they could tie. The ball was thrown in, his team in possession and he saw his team member begin to swim the ball his way. Ichigo's adrenaline was pumping and his body was readying for a fight. His presence in what he considered to be enemy territory, seemed to be unnoticed and he knew it was now or never. He raised his arm above his head, shouting, "Renji, here, throw it here!"

His teammate spotted his waving arm, pushing himself above the water's surface and chucking the ball down to Ichigo. Ichigo caught the ball in one hand, turning quickly to face the net. It was clear, they were gonna do it, they were going to tie.

Ichigo heaved the ball at the net, smiling in victory. His victory wasn't assured as he had thought, as the goalie out of nowhere, stopped the ball, the game ending in victory for the other team.

Ichigo shook his head in disbelief, as cheers and groans erupted from the pool deck. Ichigo slowly tread his way over to the side of the pool, careful to avoid the other swimmers. Still bemused he reached an arm up letting his friend heave him from the pool. Ichigo pulled his water polo cap from his head, revealing his bright locks and ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking loose the excess water.

"It was a good game," Ichigo tried to keep up his team's morale up as most of them merely nodded and began to head to the locker room. The swimmers and spectators began to mingle and Ichigo made his way to the other team's side.

He spotted the goalie, the one that had stopped his game tie shot. Ichigo slowly walked up behind him, reaching out and tapping him on the shoulder, "Hey good catch man."

The goalie turned, his arms wrapped around a small, black haired girl. The guy smiled, freeing one of his hands to shake Ichigo's hand. "Hey any other goalie and that shot would have gone in man but I'm just better than the average goalie."

"Ashido," the small girl scolded, reaching up to slap the boy on the chest lightly.

"Come on babe, don't be mad. Let's go and celebrate our victory," Ashido grinned, wrapping his arm about the girl's shoulder. He waved a hand in goodbye at Ichigo, "Hope to see ya around."

"Right, you too," Ichigo said in a dwindling voice to the guy but stared at the girl, unable to turn his eyes away.

There it was again, that nagging feeling.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2006_

"Ah Ichigo I'm so proud of you."

Ichigo turned his distracted attentions back to the callings at hand. He had been pondering that feeling of pestering , that he was missing something important. He turned to look at his professor. "Thank you sir," he nodded.

Kurosaki Ichigo had finally made a breakthrough into the world of art, his work catching the praise of critics and his artwork earning high. Over a very short period of time, Ichigo had become what he would have considered a very wealthy man. The past year had been busy. Ichigo had moved into an apartment with his friends, Abarai Renji and Hitsugaya Toshiro and was still attending school as well as painting to earn some cash on the side. Little did he know that his little job would result in such good fortune.

One review from a world wide renowned critic and Kurosaki art became the pieces sought by the high class of society and collectors everywhere. His art pieces were in high demand and sold worldwide. Today he revealed his newest section of work, a collection centered around the theme of tale of Snow White.

Ichigo stood near the door of the exhibit, his eyes glazed over in thought. The assembled crowd stood about, eyes glancing Ichigo's way as they waited for him to begin.

"So, Mr. Kurosaki," a reporter of the local newspaper held up camera. "Can you tell me what you inspiration for this particular theme was?"

Ichigo's brown irises came into focus and smiled at his memory of his motivation, nodding and clearing his throat, "Well, about a year ago I found this vase."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2007_

With slight disbelief, Kurosaki Ichigo followed his roommates, Abarai Renji and Hitsugaya Toshiro into the restaurant. Ichigo didn't know why he had agreed to the double, make that triple date, but now he was here and there was no avoiding it.

Renji had come running into the apartment earlier that week, begging Ichigo and Toshiro to go with him on a multi-date of all things. Of what Ichigo knew of Renji's past dating history, this idea seemed rather dangerous. Plus, Ichigo wasn't one to normally date, but he had surprised even himself when he had agreed to Renji's request.

And now here he was, following his read headed idiot friend between the neat rows of tables, all adorned with pure white table cloths and candles.

"Hi," two girls grinned up at them from the table. Toshiro pulled out the chair across from the girl with brown hair, seating himself and almost immediately crossing his arms. Renji sat next to him, looking across the table at the purple haired female. Ichigo took the seat beside Renji, casting a slight look of questioning across the table to the empty seat.

"Hello Senna," Renji said to the girl across from him, "and Momo," he looked to the girl next to her.

"Hi Renji," the one called Senna said. "Is this Shuuhei and Ichigo?" she looked down the table.

"Yes, I'm Hitsugaya Toshiro." With a curt nod of his head, Toshiro introduced himself to the girls.

"And I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," Ichigo said with his usual scowl.

Renji looked at the empty seat next to Momo, "But where is Ruk?" he said referring to whom Ichigo assumed was supposed to be the third girl.

Both the girls frowned, "She has one of the worst fevers I've seen," Momo said. "We actually almost called and cancelled but she insisted that we go and have fun."

"Bad luck man," Toshiro said in an undertone to Ichigo as the girls continued to talk to Renji.

Ichigo shrugged, reaching up to loosen the top button of his pale yellow button down shirt. He shoved his hands into his blue jeans, leaning back in his chair, "It's no problem, after all, judging from the girls Renji usually knows, my blind date could've been a complete freak."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2008_

Ichigo sat on a bench, overlooking the beach as he tapped on the cover of the journal in his hand. He unconsciously clicked the button of his pen, shaking his head in thought.

He had finally begun to keep a journal of every time he felt the feelings of worry that he was lacking something. He gazed down at the list, amazed that he was able to recall such memories. With a feeling of wonder he stared at the estimated dates again, racking his brain to make sure the dates were appropriate. He could hardly believe that the days he had listed seemed to be similar, if not the exact same day, all just occurring one year apart.

His body was aching, not physically per say, but aching in want for the touch of another. Sure he had had multiple girlfriends, but none that satiated the feeling of want that assaulted his emotions. But was it even a girlfriend that he sought? Or was it another motherly figure or a best friend? Just someone to be able to share his thoughts with and support him in earnest effort? Who?

Ichigo scratched his head, wondering just what it could all mean. He opened his book, turning to a new page and heading it with the day's date. "May 17, 2008, I have to same feeling again, the worry that I have missed something important."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2009_

As if expecting it, Ichigo was surprised to find that he was slightly relieved when May 17th came and along with it, the nagging feeling of loss.

He made is way in an absent minded fashion to the local bakery, the only one in town that made the chocolate cake he so loved. He grabbed the door handle, holding open the door for a lady carrying a large stack of boxes in her arms. He strode into the store, hands in the pockets of his black sweats as the smell of freshly baked goods filled his senses. The small shop was decorated with signs of spring, flora, complimenting the rust colored paint, adorning the interior. The large front counter was filled with the fresh baked goods of the day and the glass case underneath was stocked with the cakes that the were the bakery's specialty. After a short wait in the line, he bought his usual, a slice of chocolate cake, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and the cut up strawberry garnish on top.

Ichigo strode over to the line of small, round tables running along the wall opposite the counter. He sat down at his table, pulling his small journal from the inner pocket of his jacket. With practiced movements, he opened the book, turning to the next blank page. He took a bite of cake with one hand, writing in the book with his other hand. _Today is the feeling again and I still don't have know any reason for this feeling._

--

--

--

_May 17, 2010_

With a sense of urgency, Ichigo made his way into the banquet hall of the grand hotel. He couldn't believe it, he was late, late for friend's wedding that he had promised to be a groomsman in. Ichigo cursed his luck at his flight being delayed for so long. He avoided the familiar faces of those sitting around the large tables arranged on the carpeted floor and headed to the largest table.

He adjusted the bow tie of his tuxedo, depressed that he had apparently missed the whole wedding ceremony.

With a look of guilt, he sidled up to the front table, where members of the wedding party sat. "Toshiro," he tapped the newly wed on the shoulder.

The younger, white haired man turned, looking up at Ichigo from his seated position. "Ichigo?"

This wasn't quite the reaction Ichigo had been expecting due to Hitsugaya Toshiro being one of the most serious mannered people had ever met but Ichigo wasn't complaining. Ichigo had expected Toshiro to jump up and throttle him immediately upon recognition but Toshiro's mood seemed to be far from his usual grumpy fashion. He held the hand of the small brown haired girl beside him, a sense of happiness exuding from both of them.

"Toshiro, I am so sorry," he clapped a hand on Toshiro's shoulder, looking down at him, "I feel so bad."

"Don't worry man, I'm just glad that you were able to make it at all," Toshiro forced him into the now empty seat beside him. "The wedding procession was still fine but much to my bride's dislike the wedding parties were uneven. You owe me for all the comforting and damage control I had to do. As if Momo wasn't already touchy as is this day but you just had to further complicate matters."

Ah, there is was, Toshiro's usual manner of superiority, "Uh, couldn't you just have dropped one of the bridesmaids?" Ichigo offered.

"I tried suggesting that, but the girl that you were supposed to walk with had apparently flown here from Maryland or something and Momo didn't want to just ask her not to be in the wedding." Toshiro shrugged not really understanding the inner workings of the female mind.

"Sorry, sorry," Ichigo said to Toshiro and his bride now that she was listening to him too.

Toshiro's bride, Momo Hinamori gave Ichigo a smile, "That's ok I guess, she isn't really the type to care about walking the aisle alone anyway. In fact, I was going to make you apologize to her and beg for forgiveness type of thing, groveling included, but she had to leave early."

"That's too bad right?" Ichigo chuckled, "I guess I'll have to apologize to her later then."

"Pssh, don't worry, I told her my plan of making you apologize but she said that it was no big deal. Plus, I doubt you two will ever even meet again."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2011_

Ichigo almost felt his jaw hit the cobblestone walkway below his feet. The house that he now gazed up at was magnificent, there was simply no other way to describe it. Ichigo had heard rumors of the Kuchiki manor being one of the nicest houses in the world, but now he knew that the rumors didn't even come close to how amazing the real thing was.

With slight difficulty, he carried his armload of canvasses up the porch steps and to the front door. With careful movements, he leaned the art pieces against the wall holding up his hand with a hesitating finger just above the doorbell. He cleared his throat again, shaking his head and pressing the button. Chimes sounded from somewhere inside the giant manor and soon after the door was opened.

A tall man, with black hair and stern eyes stood on the other side of the door. "Yes?" he said in a curt tone, no warmth in his greeting.

"Hi," Ichigo said, the slightest hint of nervousness coloring his tone, "Are you Kuchiki Byakuya, the one that ordered my new pieces?"

The man merely nodded, waiting for Ichigo to continue as he stared down at him with the same look of apathy.

"Uh, my name is Kurosaki Ichigo, I decided to come and deliver the artwork you ordered in person due to your generous bonus on top of the normal prices of the pieces," Ichigo jerked a thumb in the direction of the stack of canvasses.

"Ah, yes Mr. Kurosaki, bring your art in," Baykuya said, not offering to help, merely stepping inside the house and leaving the door open in his wake.

"Uh, right," Ichigo scratched his head, he just couldn't read this man. He took his artwork up into his arms again, following the dark haired man into the house. If he had thought that the outside of the house was wonderful, it was nothing compared to the grandeur of the interior.

A large, open entrance hall was the first room he entered, straying only in this room for the briefest of moments as he walked through the entrance and into the room beyond. Byakuya stood near the bottom of a large stair case, his elbow resting against the railing. The staircase occupied the the focus of the room, the dark, wooden stairs polished and gleaming and the brown of the wood harmonizing with the cream color of the columns that connected to the railing.

"You can lay them on the table," he said, raising a hand to point in the direction of a large, rectangular table that was pressed up against one of the olive green colored walls. Ichigo nodded, lifting his paintings and treading with care across the polished, tiled floor. He placed his artwork on the table, unstacking the canvasses and laying them across the surface of the table.

Ichigo clapped his hands together, standing back to gaze at his artwork once more. He looked over his shoulder as his customer strode up beside him. "So what do you think?"

The man nodded in apparent approval, his eyes studying the paintings. "These are unique, just like she described them."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, "Who?"

The man's eyes remained downward, a slight look of gazing faraway held in their depths, "My younger sister. She so enjoys your work."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2012_

Ichigo jogged along the nature trail through the large park. He stared ahead, his body focused but his mind elsewhere. His toned muscles compressed and extended as needed as he ran along at steady pace, his breathing only slightly strained. His thoughts strayed to the feeling of misplacement that so troubled him. Today was the day, the one day per year that the feeling increased so greatly that he couldn't help but ponder what it was that so tugged on his mind.

The green foliage of the surrounding nature blurred past as he ran, and the early wakings of the wildlife of the park was beginning to be seen. The grass was dewed and the black, asphalt path that he ran on cut a neat route through the large expanse of green.

"On your left," a light voice said behind him.

Ichigo jumped slightly and moved to the right side of the path, making sure to leave room as a small woman with raven-black hair sprinted past him. He didn't realize that someone else had been behind him. His interest was caught was she rushed past, the aroma of sakura in her wake.

With restraint, Ichigo watched her continue on ahead, her pace faster than his and the distance between them increasing. His body wanted to follow her, reach out to her and touch her creamy skin. He didn't know why, but he longed to hear more words leave her lips, to be able to look at her face, caress her raven locks and hold her slender waist between his hands.

All these feelings for a woman he didn't even know. Ichigo bit his lower lip, pushing the thoughts from his mind and curling his hands into fists. These thoughts, why was he thinking like this? Why did his body lust after that of a woman he had been near for less than a minute? He didn't even know her name, or what she truly looked like.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked of himself, letting the silence take over once more as he continued running.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2013_

Today was just no Ichigo's day. That morning he had stubbed his big toe on his dresser, burnt his toast, set off the fire alarm, broken a glass, fell down a flight of stairs and to top it all off, had gotten into a rather nasty fender bender with a crotchety old lady that was currently beating Ichigo with her purse that held, what Ichigo assumed, was numerous cans of cat food.

"I'm sorry," Ichigo said again, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He looked to the police officer that now stood between him and the disgruntled elder woman. Ichigo stared at the ground in an attempt to avoid the stares of the surrounding people that had been casting very obvious looks in his direction as the old woman's voice had begun to increase in volume. Ichigo silently bemoaned his fate, of all the streets to crash on it had to be main street and when multiples of people were out for dinner.

The police man nodded his head wearily, as the lady ranted on. "Yes mam," he said, "But from the witness accounts, it does sound like the accident was your fault."

"What?!"

"There's twelve eyewitness that saw you run that red light and crash into Mr. Kurosaki here."

"Like hell!"

"I still don't see what the problem is here," the officer sighed again, "Mr. Kurosaki already said he wouldn't sue and even offered to help you pay some of your repair bills even though you don't even have car insurance."

The old wrinkled lady continued to gripe and the officer cast Ichigo a meaningful look, "I still don't see what she wants me to do," he said in an under tone, "I hope you didn't have any important plans tonight Mr. Kurosaki, because I don't think Mrs. Jankes here is about to let this end anytime soon."

"Ah there's not any hurry," Ichigo shrugged. The accident had caused him at least one positive result. Due to the crash, Ichigo would be able to avoid the blind date he had been en route to before the accident had occurred.

To get his father to leave him alone, Ichigo had agreed to go on a blind date arranged by his father. Normally Ichigo wouldn't give into his father's crazy antics, but recently it had been getting out of control. His father had resorted to calling Ichigo every day and filling up his answering machine with stupid messages urging his son to get married and make grandchildren.

Ichigo hated his crazy father interfering with his life, especially his love life. At the age of twenty nine, Ichigo wasn't married, in fact he didn't even have a steady girlfriend. It wasn't that Ichigo couldn't attract woman and wasn't attractive, in fact, he was what many would consider far above merely being described as attractive but still, Ichigo's dating life was almost non existent. Women still went out of their way in attempts to gain is attentions but Ichigo had his own worries. He kept his mind on his art and on his family, well his sisters at least. Finding a girlfriend just wasn't that high on his list. It was almost like he was waiting for a specific girl and he knew she was out there somewhere.

"Too bad old man," Ichigo smirked, loosening his tie and pulling his cell phone out to break the news to his father.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2014_

Ichigo sat in the park, letting the rays of the sun warm his tanned skin. He stared at the few wisps of clouds in the sky, letting his mind wander. By now he had gotten used to his feeling of angst that he felt once a year and today was the day, the yearly day that the feeling of unease was at its greatest. He had now decided that he was waiting for a girl, that's what the feeling meant. The nagging at the back of his mind was that he was missing a specific female in his life. How he knew this, he didn't know. Who this particular girl was, he also didn't know, much to his disgruntlement.

He was almost completely zoned out when he felt a nudge at his hand. With a slight jump, he glanced down, surprised to see that there was a white fluff ball of sorts sitting right next to him on the bench.

"What the …" he reached out his hand, recognizing the white fluff ball as a rabbit. "What are you doing here little one?" he murmured, letting his hand run over the rabbit's fur.

"Hey, hey you there," a voice demanded. Ichigo looked up, his eyes seeking the voice. A dark haired lady walked up to him, stopping before Ichigo with her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing with my Chappy?"

"Uh," Ichigo scratched his head, lifting his hand as the woman snatched the rabbit up into her arms. "Chappy?"

"Yes, Chappy," she said, taking a few steps back from him. "That's the rabbit's name." She paused, looking at Ichigo with scrutinizing eyes. Something about her harsh manner seemed to falter as her gaze loss it's angry sheen, "Wait, have we met somewhere before?"

Ichigo looked more closely at her, his mind whirring. Now that she mentioned it, he also had the feeling that they had met somewhere before too. "Not that I know of, but it almost feels like we have."

They stood there, staring at each other as both attempted to grasp whatever memory it was that they had met in before. Something about her, for lack of a better phrase, felt right. The feeling of loss that constantly panged him on this day was fading as he gazed into the violet eyes of the woman before him. It was like he had had an unanswered question and she had been the one to come along and give him the answer he sought. A strong connection, an instant bond seemed to form between them, causing them both surprise. They had just met but why did they feel like old acquaintances meeting once again after a long period apart?

The lady shook her head, holding her hand out, "Sorry, that was rather rude of me wasn't it? My name is-"

Ichigo's cell phone went off, the rings cutting across the woman's sentence. "Sorry," Ichigo murmured, waiting for her to continue, waiting to hear her name.

She merely grinned, looking down in the direction of the ringtone, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

"I really don't want to," Ichigo sighed, reaching down nonetheless to retrieve his phone. "Hello?"

The woman stood before Ichigo, a hesitating look upon her face. Casting him one last fleeting glance, she mouthed the word goodbye and turned on heel, hurrying down the path.

"Wait," Ichigo said, reaching out a hand to grasp the now empty air before him. He got to his feet, staring after her slowly disappearing form. "Who are you?"

--

--

--

_May 10, 2015_

Ichigo pulled his small journal from the back pocket of his pants. "This is the journal I've been using to keep my memories." His psychiatrist nodded, reaching out to pick up the small book.

"And you are almost certain that all these dates are correct?"

"Yes," Ichigo said, sitting back in his chair, "I am almost a hundred percent sure."

"All these feelings, your feeling of seeking something out, occurred on May seventeenth then?" the psychiatrist thumbed through the pages, pausing every few to read what Ichigo had written.

"Well the feeling is usually almost always there for me," Ichigo rubbed his chin in thought, "It's just these days that the emotion swells, like I'm about to make the discovery as to who it is that is pulling on my thoughts, but no one has ever appeared. But it is always this day, it's been this day for the last fourteen years, ever since I was a freshman in college."

The psychiatrist nodded, his own thoughts reserved as he hid his amazement at the discovery before him. "Ichigo, if I can offer you an opportunity to possibly soothe this worry of yours, will you be able to free up some time for me on the seventeenth?"

* * *

_Maybe I'll actually only do two chapters total for this story, I don't really know if I should dedicate a whole chapter to their actual meeting._

_Thoughts, questions, annoyances, just want to talk? Go ahead and go for it :)_


	2. Chapter 2: Rukia's Disquiet

_Chapter 2 finally :) Sorry for such a slow update and thanks to everyone that decided to read this!_

_One thing to note is that I chose May 17th because it is exactly one month before Ichigo's mother was killed in the original Bleach story plot. I wanted to pick a significant date to have these occurrences happen on and was actually going to use June 17th but changed my mind last minute._

_Now, to do some shout outs :)_

_Kane - Yep, yep I probably will go ahead an make a third chapter, but I don't know how long it will take me to update (I'm a lazy procrastinator). Thank you for your review :)_

_ElfishScallywag - Wonderful review from you and May 17, I picked that day because that day is exactly one month before Ichigo's mother dies in the original Bleach series. I almost used the June day, but decided not to last minute. Thank you much for your review :)_

_Chibilaryla - Sorry about the length, this one is just as long but I hope you still enjoy it :) Thanks for your review!_

_Llyssa-maiden - Sorry for the slow update but thanks for reviewing too :)_

_kicyslawa - Thanks for you great review :) and many of these encounters were one shot ideas I had that I shortened up and fit into the story line. Thanks once again for your review!_

_OB - Glad you read this story :) and it makes me happy to know that you've some of my other stories. Thank you for your review :)_

_Leena - Yay, thanks for the wonderful compliment :) you're super! And sorry for the slow update. I was going to change the title at first, because the current one was a bit of a mouthful but since you like it, I'll bounce the alternative title off you first before I go and change it. The other title I was thinking about was "Ichigo, Rukia: Collisions," but what do you think? Thank you for your review too :)_

_Veronica111111 - Yep yep you are correct on the this chapter being from Rukia POV and I probably will go ahead and do the third chapter, I just don't know how long it will take to update this story. Thank you for your review :)_

_anaime7 - Makes me happy that you enjoyed :) and sorry for the slow update. Hope you like this chapter and thank you for the review!_

_Holy Angel Heart - Sorry for slow update but I want to thank you for reviewing :) it's much appreciated!_

_KurukiXV - Ack, slow update on my part :( but I hope you're going to read this chapter and thank you much for your review of the first chapter :)_

**_Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Bleach (It's characters), Pepto Bismol or anything else that is copyrighted._**

* * *

The sunlight seemed bright today, in fact everything seemed bright, as if her eyes were especially adept at detecting the wavelengths of different colors. Her gaze was focused on something far away, on a 'something' unseen and somehow, it seemed that even she herself had no idea what she was looking at.

It didn't matter to her anyway what anybody thought about where she was looking, her attentions were elsewhere, diverted by the preoccupation on her mind. More than a decade of preparation, and her growing sense of anticipation seemed to be finally reaching a climax. She was reaching the end of a long journey, on the verge of some discovery ... but just what this break through was, she had no idea.

She was worried, but she had no idea what it was about, she was obsessed, but she didn't know with whom and she lusted after something important that had eluded her for almost fifteen years. With an indifference, she drummed her fingers on the arm rest of her leather office chair, facing the window instead of her desk. The light in her small office was off, the sun providing the room's illumination, magnified by the warm yellow color that painted the walls. Tall book cases were pushed up against one side wall, all the shelves stacked high with papers, books and random boxes filled with office related supplies. The other wall was occupied by a series of filing cabinets that she used to keep her patient files in, or to hide a box of donuts when she didn't feel like sharing.

A beeping from her phone and she diverted her eyes from the scenery outside the window, to her cell phone sitting atop the polished wood of her desk. She tapped the screen, and the electronic calendar appeared, a reminder popping up.

_Appointment, 3 o'clock._

It took her half a moment to recall just what this appointment was for, not the dentist, not the doctor, not for her car or anything for her pet .... As the pieces clicked, she sighed aloud. Her psychiatrist appointment! But she just didn't feel like going today.

As per suggestion, or rather forceful intimidation but her elder brother, and only living family, Rukia had started to visit the psychiatrist about a year ago and had yet to see any constructive results. It's true that after the visits, her mind did lessen in the feeling of being ill at ease, but her main worry was still always present and growing in conspicuousness with each passing day. The appointments may have been nice, but she still didn't enjoy going, she felt like a whack job just being seen leaving the building, under the sign that read "DownTown Psychiatry."

Besides Rukia already had another appointment of her own to take care of and she reasoned, that she thusly had a reason to cancel this appointment. She knew her psychiatrist was probably going to have a thing or two to say about this later, due to her having cancelled (more like avoided) her last two scheduled appointments, but Rukia picked up her phone, calling her psychiatrist anyway.

"Hello," was the overly peppy voice that answered from the other side of the line, "DownTown Psychiatry, this is Yoshino how can I help you?"

Rukia reached into her purse, pulling her planner from within and opening it to lie flat on her desk, "Hi Yoshino, this is Kuchiki Rukia. I was supposed to have an appointment today in about two hours but I'll have to cancel."

"Just an hour before the appointment huh?"

Rukia's eyes narrowed in dislike and she said under her breath, "No need to get nasty."

"Pardon, I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, sorry, sorry I just doubled booked without realizing it."

"Very well, it's alright Miss Kuchiki," the secretary loudly sighed and Rukia rolled her eyes. "Is there a specific day that you would like to re-schedule on?"

"Just the soonest time."

"Well, we just had somebody cancel their appointment that was scheduled for tomorrow, would you be able to come in tomorrow, say around two o'clock?"

Unfortunately, according to Rukia's planner, that day was open. Looks like she didn't have a legitimate excuse for putting off her appointment for about another week or so. "Yes, that will be fine," Rukia made a note on the page. "I'll be in at two in the afternoon."

"All right Miss Kuchiki, we'll see you tomorrow then."

Rukia sighed, reaching up to rub her temples in hopes of soothing her headache. She was beginning to think that something was seriously wrong with her or rather her body. Her body's internal clock, or indicator or something was screwed up and kept going off at the wrong time. Just what it was detecting though Rukia couldn't be sure, all she knew was that once a year her body and mind would seemingly ready her for a collision of some sort, something that she knew she needed in her life. But yet, every year when this day came about, she could find nothing that warranted this concern.

"Rukia, Ruuuukia," a voice said from her doorway.

"Yes Uryuu?" she asked of her bespectacled friend and colleague.

"You're two o'clock appointment is here, did you want me to have them come back and sit?"

Rukia glanced down at the patient file on her desk, reading the name atop the page, "Sure have them come back, I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Very well."

Rukia got to her feet, gathered up her papers, took one last work at herself in the mirror on her desk then headed out her office door. She stepped into a small hallway lined with doors, walking past them and proceeding into a small room at the end of the hall. Several cushy chairs lined the wooden walls of the room and a sense of calm dominated the atmosphere. Striding across the carpeted floor, her heels making no sound, Rukia came to stand by the side of a small boy, whose arm was in a sling, sitting by his mother. She squatted down near him, smiling as she held out her hand. "Hi there Shun, my name is Kuchiki Rukia, I'm going to be your physical therapist."

--

--

--

Rukia had always guessed that she would enter the medical field but had never known which occupation specifically she wanted to do. She credited her interest in medicine to the numerous years she had spent in the hospital as a child, growing up. As a young girl, Rukia's health had been poor and as a result, she had been bed ridden, confined to the hospital, her main companions being the nurses that cared for her.

_Fifteen years prior, England_

A young, three-year old Rukia sat in the hospital bed, waiting patiently as the nurse took her temperature. "You're good today Rukia," the plump nurse said, pulling the thermometer from out underneath the young girl's tongue. "How are you feeling?"

Rukia's face lit up in thought and she was silent for a pause before answering, "Umm, hungry."

"Hungry?" the lady laughed, "Very well, I'll go grab you something to eat. I'm going to send your brother back in now that we're all done, all right?

"Ok," Rukia happily nodded, sitting up straighter in her bed. She readjusted the ill fitting robe about her slender shoulders and pulled the white sheets of the bed up to her waist.

A tall boy, in a black suit slowly pushed open the door, looking into the room first before entering and going to seat himself on the edge of Rukia's bed. With a look of subdued worry, Rukia's elder brother by seven years, Byakuya, reached out his hand, patting Rukia on her head.

"Hey Rukia."

"Byakuya," she swatted his hand from her head, a pretend pout on her face. "You come to visit me only to pick on me don't you?"

"No, I'm too tired even for that, I had to go with dad to work again today. I get out of school then I have to go to the old man's business and to top it all off, after I get home tonight I still have homework."

"I don't have homework."

"That's cause you're not in school dummy," Byakuya reached up a hand, loosening the red bow tie about his own neck. "But you're going to start soon then you'll have so much homework."

"Really?"

"Yes, really, you don't believe your older brother?"

"I believe you," she furiously nodded her head, "but homework sounds not fun. I don't think I like homework."

"No one does, but don't worry I'll help you with it."

"Cause you're smart?"

"Right."

Rukia and Byakuya's father, and the head of the multinational Kuchiki Corporation, stood outside the door, watching his children in amusement. He sighed, taking a step back and leaning against the opposite wall to rub his forehead. His black hair was left longer than most men's, the length reaching down past his chin. His fair skin had been passed to his children and his grey eyes to his son only. An increased prevalence of wrinkles had taken up refuge on his forehead since his daughter's hospitalization and mouth almost seemed to fit naturally into a frown.

Upon being approached by a blond haired man, Rukia's father looked up. "Mr. Kuchiki," the stranger said, coming to a stop. "I assume you are well today."

"Ah yes, I'm doing fine Urahara, thank you for asking."

"Since I didn't receive a letter back from you, am I correct in assuming that you have decided not to join in the ghost marriage requested by the Kurosaki family??"

Mr. Kuchiki shook his head, pulling an envelope from within his jacket, "I received the paperwork you left for me." He stared down at the sheets of paper in his hand, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Urahara seemed content to let him ponder, in silence, whatever thoughts he may be having about the issue at hand and waited patiently for a few moments. "I was finally able to reach a decision."

Urahara cleared his throat, "So, what are your thoughts on the request?"

"Well, after discussion on this matter with my wife, we decided to go along with this marriage for Rukia's sake." His grey eyes glanced sideways at the partially closed door to his daughter's room. "Although, I have yet to tell my daughter about this."

Urahara laughed quietly, "So, you agreed to this marriage, but you didn't even ask the girl who was going to be married if she wanted to be?"

Rukia's father shoved the envelope into Urahara's hand. "That is for my wife and me to decide. What we choose to tell our daughter and when is none of your concern. Besides, you know you don't care either way whether or not she knows. The paperwork has been filled out and signed. There is a picture of my daughter included in the envelope and I have left my contact information for Mr. Kurosaki. All your requests have been filled, so you are free to leave."

"Don't you wish to schedule a time for the children to meet?"

"Why? The boy is going to die is he not, and Rukia ..." he was at a loss for words, his hands trembling as he kept his gaze from Urahara. Setting his jaw firmly, Rukia father said "Anyway, that's why we're doing this ghost marriage in the first place isn't it?"

Urahara frowned, "That is no reason why they _shouldn't_ meet though."

"There is no reason for them _to_ meet. And another thing to note, as of tomorrow, Rukia will be headed to America to receive further treatment, so we don't really have time for them to get acquainted anyway."

"You're leaving Europe?"

"Yes, my family and I are relocating to the United States for various reasons that do not need to be disclosed."

Urahara's face clearly indicated that he didn't agree with the Rukia's father's choice of leaving but he nodded, knowing that the head Kuchiki was not one to argue with. "Very well, I will inform the Kurosaki family of this matter and I'm sure Mr. Kurosaki will be in touch with you eventually, although recently his son's condition has taken a turn for the worse, so there may be a delay in contact." Urahara held out a photo, waiting until Rukia's father took it before continuing, "This marriage has been finalized by both parents. As of now, Rukia and Ichigo are bound in marriage, in life and death. I wish you luck and thank you for your participation. I hope to see you later Mr. Kuchiki."

"Likewise."

Urahara nodded once more in indication of farewell and departed, looking down at the thick envelope clutched in his hand.

Rukia's father stared after the strange man, clenching and unclenching his fists to release some of his pent up annoyance. He muttered to himself, "One of the things a father is supposed to do in life is to walk his daughter down the aisle when she is married, not sign her over to be married because she is dying."

He made a noise indicating his disgust he felt of himself and recomposed his face into calm. The picture in his hand held a moment in time of a boy with bright orange hair, clinging onto the hand of a woman, he assumed to be his mother. Both smiled happily, laughing at some long forgotten joke.

He carefully placed the picture into his inner jacket pocket as he stepped forward and placed his hand on the door knob to his daughter's room. With a momentary hesitation, he knocked lightly on his daughter's door, only waiting for a moment before entering.

"Rukia, Byakuya."

"Dad," his violet-eyed daughter, who so mirrored her mother, called to him from her seat upon the bed. Her skin was pale and her frame so tiny, he felt the pang of failure tugging at his heart as he stepped closer to her. Failure on his part that he hadn't been able to properly care for her and failure that he hadn't been able to protect her.

"Rukia, how are you?" he sat in the chair near the bed, reaching out his hand to take his daughter's small hand in his own.

"Good, I think," Rukia grinned, "I'm going to get something to eat soon, I hope it's not Jell-O, gross. I like pudding more, chocolate pudding. Or that cake, the one with strawberries and whip cream. It's yummy."

Her father listened with a faraway look on his face, his grey eyes focused on his daughter, but his thoughts elsewhere. "Rukia," he said finally, cutting across her assessments of the hospital's desserts. "What do you think about marriage?"

--

--

--

_May 17, 2002, Nashville, Tennessee _

Pumpernickel, blueberry, pumpkin, chocolate, poppy seed, banana nut, strawberry, strawberry-poppyseed, blueberry-banana ...

"Man oh man, just how many flavors of muffins can one place have?" said the petite girl leaning down to look through the glass of the display case at the coffee shop. Almost thirteen years later, and Kuchiki Rukia was a completely different person than who she had been growing up. She had combated a life-threatening disease and won, had survived the loss of both of her parents when she was young and had even managed recently to get her license.

Now in her junior year of high school, she was in full bloom and eager to get her diploma and move onto college. Although, she still was rather indecisive at times, "I hate making difficult decisions," she said aloud, turning from the muffin display to look at her friend. "Momo, hey Momo," she said, poking the shoulder of her brown haired companion.

"Rukia, what is taking you so long, just order something," Momo said placing her hands on her hips. "I already ordered your coffee."

"I don't know which one to choose though, they all look so good."

"Just hurry up, school starts in fifteen minutes. Just choose, and you better be ready to go by the time I return from the bathroom or else I'm leaving you behind."

"Momo," Rukia's whine for help went unheeded as her friend stuck out her tongue and waved her hand as she made her way to the bathroom.

"Can I help you?" the cashier gave Rukia a look of undisguised interest and the smaller girl blushingly looked up, realizing that she was probably gawking at the baked goods like animals in a zoo.

"Just a strawberry-poppy seed muffin please."

"Right away, just wait here while I grab it."

Nearby, down at the other side of the counter, "Coffee black," was called out and Rukia almost dropped her wallet from her hands in realization that that was her coffee. She took a step in that direction but stopped as the cashier came back with her very delectable looking muffin.

"Thanks much," Rukia beamed, handing over her money, grabbing the muffin-that-would-be-breakfast and trying to make her way to the other end of the counter, which proved to be rather difficult due to the copious amounts of people that had also chosen to get coffee this morning.

One hop, skip and a rather ungraceful jump, Rukia reached the receiving portion of the counter and found nothing. "I thought my coffee was down here."

"Ruk, ready to go?" Momo appeared by Rukia's side, lightly bumping her friend in the hip.

"No, my coffee isn't here," Rukia let her purple eyes dawdle across the counter again. Nope, still not there.

"I swear I ordered your drink," Momo slapped her hand, palm side down on the counter. "Excuse me? I'm wondering if you made up a coffee black yet?"

The coffee barista returned to the counter, placing a cup down before Momo, "Yeah, I already made that one up."

"Then what's that?"

"Straight black coffee."

"Then where's the coffee black?"

"Oh some orange haired fella took it not but a minute ago."

"Drat."

Rukia's gaze was out the window as she watched an orange haired guy make his way down the sidewalk. "Did you say he had orange hair?" she grabbed the coffee cup off the counter, turning and forcing her way through the crowd even before she had received an answer. With an arcing throw over her shoulder, she passed her muffin off to Momo, "I'll be right back."

Rukia wasn't a track star for nothing and she put her skills to use as she made her way down the sidewalk, calling out, "Excuse me!"

Luckily he came to a stop at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk and turned to look back at her. The first thing she noticed, was that he was rather good looking, heck she was a high school girl after all and overly prone to take note of these types of things. She originally had been planning on chewing him out and calling him idiot and all sorts of other names but decided to tone down her anger, as she got closer and he seemingly became more attractive.

"Please wait a moment," Rukia was able to say to him as she came to a stop by his side. "I believe you have my coffee."

His brilliant brown colored eyes swept down to his own coffee cup, "I thought this was a black coffee though."

Man even his voice had an appealing pull to it. She shook her head and decided that he deserved a smile, "No, I'm guessing you ordered a black coffee." Feeling rather bold on her part, she placed the cup in her hand into his, reaching for the other cup. "This is a _coffee black_." Now that she actually had a reason to think about it, the names were just a bit too alike. "I don't know why the names are so similar. This coffee here has double shot of caffeine and dark chocolate flavoring."

A rich chuckle left his lips, "How ridiculous." Rukia nodded, wandering if she should ask him his name. With a glance down to his watch he said, "Shoot I'm late now."

Dang, for both of them.

"Thanks," he said before he crossed the street and in all his glory was gone.

"You're welcome," Rukia waved. She hadn't gotten his name, oh well. She started walking back towards the coffee shop. Crushes were fickle things anyway when a girl was in high school.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2003_

Rukia giggled, following her group of friends as they walked across the dirt ground of the county fair. "I can't do that," she said through her laughter to her friends.

"Just do it, it's a dare," Momo said from beside her. "It's your senior year, do something out of the ordinary."

"But I can't just go and ask some random guy to ride on the tunnel of love with me," Rukia's other friends laughed again at the mention of the dare.

"Do it, that guy over there with the orange hair looks delectable," a girl with purple hair conspicuously pointed to a guy walking through past the fair booths with two smaller girls and an older man with black hair.

"No, put your hand down Senna," Rukia grabbed her friend's hand, pulling it down as they continued to walk towards the tunnel of love ride. "And I don't think guys appreciate being described by words that are commonly used in application to food.

"You're just trying to change the subject now."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Rukia's friends replied in unison.

Rukia rolled her eyes but grinned, "I am not, but I'll do the dare if you all will shut up and you guys can't be seen ok?"

"Go, go then," the giggling ramble of girls practically shoved Rukia towards the ride. Heaving a deep breath, she made her way towards the love tunnel, looking around for the guy she had just seen. "Now, where did he go?"

"Kuchiki Rukia?"

Someone that knew her name? Whipping about, Rukia was met with a small, meek black-haired boy. "Wah? Hanatarou?" Rukia toned down her voice realizing she had practically been shouting. "H-hey what's up?"

Yamada Hanatarou her high school's resident nerd, was nervously standing before her. Rukia had to strain to hear him as he mumbled away, "Well, it's our senior year and all, and we might not see each other after we all go our separate ways for college and stuff and I just want you to know that I've always liked you and well I was wondering if you wanted to go on a ride with me?"

Well, the dare had been to go with _any _guy on the tunnel of love ride …

"Sure," was her cheery reply. With a hand pointed in the direction of the ride Rukia smiled to Hanatarou, "How about this one?"

"Th-th-the Tunnel of," he gulped, "L-l-l-l-l-l-l-l?"

Seeing that he seemed incapable of completing the name, Rukia offered, "Love?" He frantically nodded at this and gulped. Rukia raised an eyebrow, "Is that ok?"

It seemed to be more ok, "Yeah! I mean yes, yes, of course, yes."

"Come on then," she grabbed onto his hand with both of hers and pulled him to the ride. Hanatarou followed after her, half walking, half stumbling, but never letting go of Rukia's hand. One short wait in a line later, and Rukia sat next to Hanatarou in a swan shaped boat set afloat on a small canal of water. Rukia just hoped that the rickety boat would hold up for the duration of the ride.

Hanatarou was sweating bullets and in his nervousness almost fell from the boat as the ride started. "Hanatarou," Rukia wondered if these rides needed seat-belts for people like him, "Are you alright?"

"Y-y-yes!"

"You're sure?"

"Yes thank you for asking!"

"Alright then," Rukia was glad that the inside of the tunnel was dark, that at least seemed to ease some of the awkwardness from the situation, well that and the yelling that came from somewhere back near the entrance of the tunnel.

There seemed to be some kind of commotion coming from the boat behind them and from the dark came a loud splash. "Why my precious-gifts-from-Masaki? Masaki can you believe this, the kids threw their own loving father overboard?!" Rukia was able to make out being said by a man's voice somewhere back in the tunnel.

His voice was answered by another yelling, "Shut up old man!"

"Eh," Rukia heard Hanatarou say from beside her. "Should we be concerned?"

"I hope not, the water is only about three feet deep anyway."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2004_

With a distraction on her mind, Rukia carefully placed the object in her hands down on the small, wooden display table. The building of the art fair was silent, as each artist worked away at setting up their art pieces. She was surprised that she herself was even here in the first place, after all, she didn't consider herself much of an "arty" person.

Rukia's first year in college, and she would have to say that things were going good so far. Going to school near home, in Tennessee was nice, but she felt restless and knew that when the time came, she would want to earn her graduate's degree elsewhere. So, to finish out her first year she had decided to branch out and take a pottery class. The project she had made, that was to be shown in the art fair was a vase. Her inspiration for this vase? Snow White. So, she still liked fairy tales, not like it was a bad thing, at least that's what she told herself.

"I'm amazed it turned out so nicely," she mused to herself, making a mental note to take a picture to stick in her notebook. Not that she would admit it, but Rukia kept a journal of sorts that she would record her thoughts down in from time to time, in other words a diary. But Rukia didn't like the word 'diary' so had started to call the book her 'Dear Snow.' She chose this because first off, 'diary' reminded her of the word that was used last in the Pepto Bismol song, second off, Snow made her feel that she was writing to someone at least halfway important and third because if anyone ever really did find the book, Rukia would be able to play it off as letters she-was-planning-on-sending-off-to-her-pen-pal-from-Norway … named Snow. Yes, she really had thought the matter over just a bit too much.

But she didn't use it that often, only for days that struck her as important and Rukia had begun to notice that every seventeenth of May, since she had started to keep the journal two years ago, she had had an urge to write something down.

Today proved to be no different.

"This is beautiful Rukia."

The said girl jumped at the voice, almost knocking her delicate vase off the stand. "Ukitake sir?" she said with a nervous half laugh. "How are you doing?"

The pottery teacher that had encouraged her to enter her work, Ukitake Jushiro patted Rukia on the shoulder, "I'm fine but are you sure you cannot stay and enjoy the rest of the art exhibit?"

"No, I have a group project that really needs to be finished."

"Ah and what was your major again? It wasn't art was it?"

She had thought of that as her major at one period in her life, but that window of time had already gone and passed, now, "I'm a physical therapy major," Rukia answered.

"That's a shame, you really have a talent for the aesthetics," Ukitake's words came out with a sigh. "Well, I'll be seeing you in class later and Rukia, you seem rather distracted today so just be careful will you?"

"Thanks sir, see you Monday," was her farewell before she made sure to walk carefully around the table her vase was on, before heading to the front door and out of the building.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2005_

Rukia's blood was boiling and her voice was hoarse from yelling, but hell, she loved it. Watching the water polo game, she cheered on her boyfriend until her throat began to get sore and her arms were tired.

"Ashido! Don't let them score! End this game!" Rukia kept her eyes on her boyfriend who treaded water in front of the goalie's net. She knew her red-haired boyfriend probably couldn't hear her, seeing as how she was sitting in the stands, he was multitudes of feet away in the pool, his ears were covered with his water polo cap and a large mass of other people were yelling just as loudly as Rukia but she was going to yell at him anyway.

"Come on, come on, a few seconds left."

With a roar in victory for her team, the game ended and Rukia leapt to her feet, her arms raised above her head. Almost face planting it, she descended the bleachers and practically sprinted her way to the side of the pool, but she didn't actually run of course because that isn't to be done on pool decks.

As her boyfriend pulled himself from the pool, water streaking down his body, Rukia waited impatiently for him. "Rukia," he grinned as his eyes met hers. "Come here."

Not needing to be told twice, she wrapped her arms about him tightly, not even caring that he was still dripping wet from the pool. He nestled his nose in her hair, the red strands of his own hair drizzling water onto her face.

"Ashido," she removed his cap, with slight difficulty, fully freeing his hair.

"You know, I could hear you yelling at me all the way from the stands," his chuckle tickled her nose that was buried in his chest.

Rukia's chance to reply was overtaken by the voice of another guy that had just tapped Ashido on the shoulder, saying, "Hey good catch man."

Ah, the orange haired star of the rival team. Ashido lowered one of his hands from Rukia's shoulder and shook the hand of the other guy, "Hey, any other goalie and that shot would have gone in man," he said oh so modestly. "But I'm just better than the average goalie."

Rukia rolled her eyes, slapping her boyfriend on his chest, "Ashido."

"Come on babe, don't be mad." He ruffled her hair, lowering his arm to wrap about her shoulders again. "Let's go and celebrate our victory," he said, returning to their own conversation. He waved to the orange haired guy, "Hope to see you around."

"Right you too," Rukia heard him reply as she and Ashido made their way towards the stands.

As Ashido began to babble away about all the saves he had made during the game, Rukia craned her neck, looking back at the orange haired polo player.

A tug at the corner of her consciousness and Rukia was overtaken by the thought that she had seen him somewhere before. "So Rukia," Ashido's voice pushed the dilemma from her mind, "do you think I should get some tattoos like that red haired guy from the other team?"

--

--

--

_May 17, 2006_

Drumming her fingers of the car's windowsill in boredom Rukia sighed aloud as her brother, in the driver's seat, steered the car past the same statue that had already passed twice before.

Due to her brother being involved in a supranational business, he traveled, a lot. Rukia was sad that they didn't spend much time together but knew her brother wasn't much of a social butterfly to begin with.

BUT apparently her brother _had_ been feeling bad about his lack of family time with his sister and having cleared up a whole week of his own agenda, had planned and written out a "tentativeve schedule" for the time he would spend with Rukia.

Their current event? An art exhibit of an artist that had recently been gaining fame for his paintings. The dilemma? They were hopelessly lost.

"Brother," Rukia said, "I think we're lost."

"Nonsense Rukia," he brother answered. "Kuchikis never get lost."

"Riiiight." _Note to self, never tell my brother that I, __Kuchiki__ Rukia, once got lost in a play set in a McDonald's._

"Ah, yes" Byakuya said in victory, "here we are."

After hearing that exact phrase five more times, it finally proved to be true as Byakuya pulled the car into a parking space outside of the exhibition hall. "Ready?" he said stepping from the car and shutting his door. Following suit, Rukia grabbed her purse, walking around the car towards her brother.

"Do you suppose we missed the opening speech?" she asked falling into step beside him as they strode to the front doors.

"Most likely," he held the door open for her. "But I'm sure I could arrange a meeting if you wanted to meet the artist."

"Nah," Rukia said in an offhand manner as they entered the hall and her eyes became engrossed with the artwork before them. "Just looking at his paintings will leave me feeling as if I've met him in person."

She stood before a six by four painting, so vivid and captivating that all other thought was dashed from her mind. In great detail, the artist had drawn a woman, a very beautiful woman with pale skin and black hair, standing in a scenery of snow. "The Yuki-Onna?" Rukia read the title, her eyes traveling back to the picture. The most striking aspect of the piece was the eyes, which had been painted so realistically, that Rukia could almost see the perception occurring in the painted purple irises.

"Beautiful," she finally said, stepping back to appreciate the picture on a macro scale. Something about this artwork spoke to her. This was definitely something to go in her Dear Snow for the day.

"Are you going to stare at this one picture the whole time?" Byakuya asked, watching his sister.

"No, let's continue on," Rukia finally lowered her eyes. "But that painting was just so catching. I wonder what his inspiration was."

"We may never know, artists are, after all, very fickle creatures."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2007_

Momo popped the thermometer from Rukia's mouth, looking down to the reading and frowning. "One hundred and one point three degrees Fahrenheit," she read aloud. "Looks like you aren't going anywhere."

Not that Rukia really felt like going anywhere anyway. Currently in her bed, wearing her Chappy pajamas and covered by fifteen blankets, Rukia didn't much like doing anything. Having finally decided that she was old enough to live on her own, Rukia had moved out of her home she shared with her brother and had instead taken up residence in a three bedroom apartment with her best friend Momo and their friend Senna. The only problem with this was that now the only people to care for her when she was sick, were Senna and Momo, both of whom were highly accident prone and often lacking in common sense.

"If she shouldn't go, then neither should we," Senna said, leaning against the door way to Rukia's room. "I don't want Rukia to die while we're gone."

"Oh thanks for being positive," Rukia muttered, having troubles talking due to her sore throat and stuffy nose.

"Don't worry Rukia, we'll take care of you," Momo patted her on the hand. Rukia gulped. Take care of her the same way they took care of the houseplants, pet goldfish and the child they had been babysitting?

The house plants: dead and still sitting dry and crusty in the window sill.

Pet goldfish: dead, now supposedly residing/decaying somewhere down in the sewers.

The boy: currently living somewhere hidden in China and probably scarred for life.

"No, no, no," Rukia said quickly. "Just go on this date. I'll be fine."

Momo had been planning some sort of triple date for about a week now and today was the scheduled day of the meeting and secretly, Rukia was glad she had a legitimate reason to miss it. It's not that she didn't trust Momo it was just because she herself wasn't really big on the whole dating process.

After having broken up Ashido months ago, Rukia had decided that she would take some time off of the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing and wait until she felt up to it once more. Now, more than six months later, Momo had decided that Rukia was ready to date again. So, she had arranged for two of her boyfriend's roommates to come on an "outing" of sorts, in hopes of one of them hooking up with Rukia. Due to sickness though, it seemed as if this plan would prove to be unsuccessful.

Momo sat down on the side of Rukia's bed, "But I just can't leave-"

"Momo, I'll just sleep the whole time you're gone and if worse comes to worse, I can call my brother."

"Isn't he out of town?"

"Well if he is, I'll call my ex-boyfriend."

"Awkward?"

"Nah, we're still good friends."

"Are you sure?" Momo and Senna asked together.

"Yes I'm sure just go or else I'll cough on you and get you both sick too."

Senna made a face, "Ew."

"Senna, we can't just leave her," Momo chided.

"Momo, I'll be fine, besides me going like this would probably just scare off any potential suitors anyway."

With a pause of contemplation, followed by a sigh, Momo got to her feet. "Fine but you call me if you have any sudden changes."

"Promise."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"Go!"

--

--

--

_May 17, 2008_

Rukia's first year of graduate school was nearing its end and she had decided to take time out of her day for a moment of relaxation. Her life certainly had gone some major changes recently, including moving to Maryland, hooking up with and ending with a boyfriend in a time period of three months and finally, getting into the swing of her new classes and all the information that came along with them.

Now sitting on the bench in the local park, Rukia wasn't concerned with any of that. What was bugging her, was that it was one of those days again, the kind where she felt she should be remembering something important.

She absentmindedly tapped the cover of the book in her hands with the end of her pen, taping her toe in thought. After having reviewed the contents of her 'Dear Snow' Journal, Rukia had discovered that she had written something for only one date, every single year. Every May seventeenth, since 2002, six years ago, Rukia had written something, the main topic of each entry being the pondering of lacking. Lacking in knowledge of something she needed, lacking in understanding of just what exactly she was missing and lacking in being able to find what cause her skin to prickle so on this exact date, every single year.

After reaching no solid conclusions, Rukia opened her book, reaching a fresh page and began to write, _There it is yet again, the sneaking suspicion that I have missed something important._

--

--

--

_May 17, 2009_

Congratulations being in order, Rukia was sent to the store to pick up food for the party. The congratulations being for Momo who had completed all her training and become a registered nurse. After having taken two years off of school between high school and college, Momo had encountered a boy that went to college in Tennessee. She had found out that he was currently studying to be a doctor and thusly had decided to become a registered nurse.

Yes, that guy was Hitsugaya.

And yes, he still had a fair number of years of schooling left but Momo didn't care.

The serendipitous circumstance of Rukia having a week long break, provided her with an opportunity to fly home to Tennessee and visit an over-ecstatic Momo. Being home was nice, but Rukia had to wonder if it had always been so crazy in her hometown.

She didn't know why she had been picked, but a list of baked goods along with an address written on a scrap of paper had been put into her hand and Rukia had been shoved out the door to go and pick up the food for the party. Not that she cared, Hitsugaya and Momo's what-they-thought-to-be-well-hidden flirting was starting to annoy her.

Waiting at the counter in the bakery, while the baker packaged the cakes, Rukia let her mind wander. Why did she have this feeling that she had forgotten something important? It wasn't the feeling she had when she forgot to turn in a library book, or replace the batteries in her smoke alarm, no this was more along the lines of, oh crap there's only one ticket left to the once in a lifetime opportunity and she has all the money for it, but just doesn't know where to go and pay because she forgot the location … or something along those lines.

Maybe it would make more sense later when she told Snow. Rukia was sure that it would bug her until she figured out just what she was supposed to be remembering. Her stomach growled and she looked down, never mind that worry for now, she was hungry and that chocolate cake sitting there on display looked to be just the thing.

"Excuse me," she said to the baker as he set down a stack of boxes on the counter before her. "Could you also box me up a slice of that chocolate cake there, just one, to go?"

"Of course my dear," the mustachio, good-natured baker chuckled. As the last box was added to the top of the stack and the items were paid for, Rukia took the boxes up into her arms, annoyed to see that Momo had ordered so much that Rukia couldn't see where she was going.

With slight difficulty, she made her way to the door, wondering how exactly she was going to get past the door once she got there. Luckily, a few feet away and the door was pushed opened, the person even being so kind as to hold the door open while Rukia lumbered her way out.

A spark of sensation of some type shot through her body, almost causing her armload of baked goods to topple to the ground. Rukia steadied herself, and continued on, mumbling aloud, "Man, I really should switch to decaf."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2010_

Weddings were supposed to be one of the happiest days in a girl's life but what that statement needed was a big sub-clausal attachment. Weddings were one of the happiest days in a girl's life IF it was that girl's wedding, someone else's wedding was hell.

Rukia wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but somehow she and the other bride's maids had managed to live through Momo's overly dramatic bride-to-be craze. As her maid of honor, the loveliness of monster bride had been an even bigger problem for Rukia, who had been the one to deal with all the mental breakdowns and unexplainable tears of the bride herself.

As much as she loved the two of them, Momo and Hitsugaya, there had been times when she had wanted to throttle both, a very painful, very violent throttling at that. Her biggest problem had been when Hitsugaya had come barging into Momo's room, a few hours before the start of the wedding ceremony to tell them that one of his groom's men wouldn't be able to make it. Rukia should've known this was going to be a problem when the guy had also been absent earlier from the rehearsal.

Momo, on the other hand, had obviously not been expecting this in the slightest, seeing as how she had flown into a fit of rage, threatened to kill the absent groom's man, knocked over a rather pricey looking lamp, tore up a whole box of Kleenex and had only been able to be calmed once she realized that she had accidentally hit Hitsugaya in the head with a cell phone she had thrown.

Not that her husband-to-be even cared. Those two were too stupid for their own good.

And being stupid, Hitsugaya had comforted Momo by saying, "It will all work out." That wasn't the stupid part though, no, the stupid part was he said that _and then_ had LEFT so Momo looked to Rukia who was left being the one to 'work it all out!'

So, the wedding had been a little chaotic at first, but everything had ended up falling to place and the two, loving/stupid idiots had been married without a hitch. Rukia hadn't even cared that she had walked the aisle alone, heck she would have walked the aisle naked to at least get the wedding ordeal done and over with … ok maybe not naked.

"Momo," Rukia hugged the now Mrs. Hitsugaya, "I'll be going now ok?"

"But why so early?"

"You may be all done with school but I'm not remember?"

"But you already know you're going to graduate," Momo's pout had been set into place.

Resist the pout, "Becoming a physical therapist is no easy matter Momo and I'm this close to achieving my goal so I don't want to fumble at the finish line."

Crossing her arms Momo said, "Fine, but call me once you get back to Maryland so I know you made it safely."

"Will do," Rukia hugged her once more, and reached out a hand, patting Hitsugaya on the shoulder. "Take care Toshiro and I know I'll be seeing you later because Momo promised she would be up to visit me and I know she won't leave you behind."

The white haired groom smirked, "Thanks for all the help Kuchiki and don't worry, I'll go and beat up my flaky groom's man."

"Ah, there's no reason to do that," said Rukia, "Besides, no point in you beating up someone for me if I've never even met the guy."

--

--

--

_May 17, 2011_

Rukia waited in the airport terminal, white sundress on, a sun hat atop her head and a frown on her face. "I can't believe they lost your luggage."

"I know," Senna shrieked, throwing her hands up in annoyance. "I knew that stewardess was awfully suspicious."

"Because he was a guy?" Rukia asked, not quite seeing Momo's point.

"No, because he tried to hit on me, I shot him down and told him I'm married to the greatest guy in the world then his face got all ugly, excuse me, make that then his face got even uglier and he stomped off."

"Senna," Rukia sighed, "For the last time, the stewards of the plane are not in charge of you luggage."

"Bah, he was still a jerk," Senna crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. In the large airport, midday, Rukia waited with Senna, working hard to keep her overly enthusiastic friend calm. The line they stood in seemed to be growing instead of shrinking as Senna waited to report her lost luggage and to verbally abuse whoever she felt she warranted the verbal lashing in the process.

Since graduating school and earning her degree, Rukia had moved back to Tennessee and had been hired at a locally owned physical therapy office, working with four other physical therapists. She had been reunited with Momo who was still working as a nurse at the hospital and with Senna, who had finally decided to drop her dream of being a singer and become a music producer instead.

The randomness of the trip was due to Senna, who decided that she was tired of work and wanted a break, a break that Rukia and Momo had to come on also. Orihime who had merely been chatting to Rukia at the time of the proposal, had even somehow become involved. So, after having decided to spend some time away, just the girls, Rukia, Momo, Senna and Rukia's new friend from work, Orihime had booked the soonest flight to Cabo.

Planning the "getaway" had taken some major hassling, wheeling and dealing and all their parts, seeing as how this was Rukia, Senna and Momo had work and Orihime had just returned from a different trip overseas in Japan. They had finally been able to settle on a window of time that was a week long and then, it had been off to the mall to buy bikinis that would "help" make the trip just that much better.

Momo had been reluctant to go without Hitsugaya but Senna's insistence that no husbands were allowed had won/forced her approval. Senna's husband hadn't even been told they were going on a trip until after they had already arrived in Cabo. Rukia wondered just how long their marriage would last.

One short, but wonderful week later, and Rukia and co. were back in Tennessee, standing in the airport … waiting in line … how those beaches were missed.

"Hey have you guys moved at all?" Orihime and Momo forced their way to where Rukia and Senna stood in line.

"I think so, but you'd have to get a microscope out to measure the distance," Rukia said. "I think the distance we have moved can only be measure in micro meters."

"Then why don't you just whip out your microscope then Rukia?" Senna elbowed Orihime. "If she carries a microscope around with her, where do you think she keeps it huh?"

"Shut up, both of you." Senna was saved from Rukia's annoyance by the receiving of a call on Rukia's phone, causing the small, black haired woman to dance about momentarily while she attempted to find her find her phone amidst her bags.

"Hello, hello?" she said, straightening once she had found her cell phone. "Byakuya?"

"Rukia, hello, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, just got back from Cabo and all."

"Ah, yes since you are now back in town, if you so choose, you can come over to the main house today and pick up that art work that was ordered for you."

"The artwork?"

"The paintings from that artist, Kurosaki Ichigo. He said he would be delivering them today, in fact he's due in about fifteen minutes, so if you hurry, you may be able to meet him in person."

Rukia chewed her lower lip, glancing down at her Rolex. "I don't know, it might take me longer than I thought to leave the airport. One of my friend's lost her luggage and I thought it best that I wait for her."

Senna, who currently had Momo in a head lock for some reason, looked up to smile at Rukia at the mention of lost luggage.

"It's fine either way," Byakuya said on the other line. "Just be sure to stop by the main house once you are able to."

Something orange out of the corner of Rukia's eyes caught her attention and she quickly jerked her head in that direction. "Sorry Byakuya I have to go," Rukia said into her phone, hanging up after exchanging goodbyes with her brother. A rather tall man with orange hair, made his way through the crowd, a rolling suitcase in tow. As Rukia watched him, her heart started to erratically dance about in her chest, her heart beat falling out of rhythm. She didn't even know who this guy was, but felt that for some reason she really did need to get to know him.

"Watch my stuff," she said in a distracted voice to Orihime as she took off after the man, not like a stalker but rather just a curious observer … with a slight obsession of sorts.

Something about this man was familiar, she just couldn't put her finger on it. Or rather, something about the color of his hair was familiar and called to her in a way that she couldn't ignore.

The man kept walking, not knowing that a woman was hot on his trail. As the two came closer to the front entrance, the man came to a stop and Rukia also halted, wondering if she had been found out.

Turns out the man had spotted someone he knew. He released the handle of his bag and opened his arms wide, as a tall, lithe blond figure ran into his arms. It was like watching the love scene from a movie. You know, the kind with two lovers that run to each other all slow mo like, on a beach during sunset … except that it wasn't sunset … and they were in an airport, not on a beach … and instead of being a man and a woman, it was a man and a man …

After a rather passionate kiss and spinning about happily the two broke apart and Rukia was finally able to see the face of the orange haired man. Talk about deflation of the building feeling that had been in her chest.

It wasn't the man kissing another man that crushed her dreams, no, it was the man's appearance that crushed her dreams. Not that she was superficial and vain, rather that she knew that who she was searching for would be the one to make her heart flutter and come to a stand still all at the same time and it just wasn't this man. Besides, her ideal man did not have a goatee.

With a sigh of defeat, she turned on heel, heading back the way she had come. At least she could hazard a guess that the nagging feeling she kept having had something to do with a man, a man with orange hair. Now, she just had to figure out which man specifically was the one that her heart kept pestering her to find. But heck in the human population of more than seven billion plus it shouldn't be that hard right?

--

--

--

_May 17, 2012_

Her clock blinked 5:42 and Rukia rolled onto her other side. She sighed aloud, turning onto her back with a huff of annoyance. "God, I can't get back to sleep," she rubbed her head in frustration, sitting up in her bed. "Arrgh, why?" With a look back at her clock, Rukia bounded from bed. On the one day when she could sleep in and what did you know, it looked like she wouldn't be sleeping in.

Grumbling a string of curses, Rukia pulled her pajamas off, finding her running top and a pair of shorts. She grabbed her tennis shoes, heading towards her front door. She strapped her watch about her wrist and didn't even have to look when the realization hit. Today was the day, the day she had coined "her day of unrest."

The fact that she had even named the day made her doubt her own sanity. First off she didn't even know why she was so interested in the seventeenth of May but now she was even naming the should-be-quotidian day.

Her eyes strayed down the face of her watch, the digital numbers confirming her thoughts, "May seventeenth," she murmured. What the heck did it mean?

That question assaulted her mind as she pulled on her shoes. It was still there as she grabbed her keys, heading from her high-rise apartment, where she now lived alone, down to her car. Her whole drive to the park, her mind was only half focused on the road, the other half still wondering what about this day made her skin tingle so. As she stretched and finally started her jog the feeling that she was so close to making a very important discovery, grew.

Running along the paved path, she kept her eyes peeled, looking for something, anything that was supposed to be her sign, ready to pounce on it once she spotted it. Her feet hit the asphalt of the route below and she watched the park foliage go by. Finally turning her attentions forward again, she noticed the other jogger on the path before her.

She could have just ran right past him, there was enough room on the side of the path but for some reason she strayed behind him, watching his well toned body. His hair was bright orange, spiky and blew lightly in the wind created by his running. Catching herself staring, she sped up her pace, "On your left," she called, rushing past him.

She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder, picking up her pace once again. Her heart was racing, some of it due to her jogging but because in response to another emotion she felt upon seeing that man. A feeling that she was now used to experiencing once a year on this day but it still surprised her as she finally identified just what this emotion was.

Longing.

--

--

--

_May 17, 2013_

Rukia laughed at herself. Here she was twenty-eight years old, going on a blind date. A large majority of her friends were engaged, married, hell some had already been married and divorced and then remarried. And to make her feel like even more of an old maid, Momo was pregnant and expecting her first child in less than a month.

Rukia rolled her eyes, pulling her gaze from the picture taped on the side of her mirror. When Momo had found out she was pregnant had told Rukia first and didn't tell Toshiro until after she had given Rukia a camera to use to capture his reaction. Needless to say, that picture turned out to be worth a thousand words and there were a few Rukia remembered rather vividly as coming from Toshiro's mouth upon hearing the news.

Focusing on the matter at hand, Rukia grabbed her hairspray, applying a rather liberal amount on her black locks. Her hair was styled, pinned into a messy up do with a black barrette clipped just above the main mop of her hair. A black cocktail dress was her chosen attire for the night and her outfit was completed with a pair of strappy heels.

"Can you believe this nonsense Chappy?" she asked of her pet bunny rabbit that sat in his box, chewing away at a carrot. He merely remained hunched in a ball of white puff, his black eyes watching his master with interest.

Clasping a silver bracelet onto her hand, she grabbed her black clutch purse and her car keys, pausing at her closet as she decided whether or not she needed a jacket. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, she opened her closet, grabbing a grey cardigan and pulling it on. "Ok Chappy, I'm off."

As she headed down the stairs and out to her car, her cell phone buzzed, Rukia cursing that she had put her phone in her purse. Reaching her car, she dumped the contents of her purse onto the ground, finally finding her phone. "Hello, hello," she said, unlocking her car door, and picking up the dumped contents of her purse from the ground to dump into the passenger seat.

"What!?" echoed through the parking garage, as Rukia yelled, "Momo's going into labor?"

--

--

--

_May 17, 2014_

Rukia sat on a picnic blanket in the park, a book in her hands and her rabbit on her lap. "Oh Chappy," she said, patting her rabbit atop the head. "Romance in these novels is just so simple. Two good looking people meet, overcome a challenge through love and live happily ever after."

With a sigh, she closed the book, throwing it down on the red and white checkered blanket. "If only my life was that simple," she sighed. "I really don't see why it can't be though. I mean I already know that there's someone out there for me, at least I think that's what this feeling is that I have every year. My only problem is that I can't seem to find my destined love."

Chappy jumped from her lap, going over to the grass to chew away at the green blades. Rukia frowned, turning back to her book and opening it once more. At least she knew what was causing the anxiety now, not that the nagging at her mind had been at all decreased by this discovery. If anything, the badgering had only become worse, like it was growing to a climax of some sort.

"Chappy, how about we have cake tonight for dinner? I don't feel like cooking," Rukia mumbled, reaching out her hand for her bunny. "Chappy?"

Rukia dropped her book again, looking on the ground where her rabbit had just been. "Chap? Chappy? Where are you?"

With all the worry that a mother would have for her child Rukia got to her feet and began searching the nearby grass for the white ball of fluff. Her search area began to widen and before she realized it, she meters away from where her blanket was. "I doubt Chappy got this far," she muttered but the words had scarcely left her mouth when she spotted a white shaped ball sitting on a bench next to a man.

"Hey, hey you there," she called out to the man that was now petting her rabbit. Rukia stomped up the pathway, stopping right in front of the man, "What do you think you're doing with my Chappy?"

"Uh," he blinked a few times in confusion. "Chappy?"

Rukia reached down, scooping up her bunny into her arms and squeezing him tight to her chest. "Yes Chappy," she stepped back. "That's the rabbit's name." Rukia rolled her eyes, idiot. He even looked kinda dumb with his orange hair. Rukia looked at him again, orange hair? "Wait, have we met somewhere before?" she blurted out before she had time to really think about it.

The brown of his eyes shone brightly as he looked up at Rukia and she felt her heart skip a beat. "Not that I know of," he finally said. "But if almost feels like we have."

They stood there, staring at each other as both attempted to grasp whatever memory it was that they had met in before. Rukia's heart told her that something about him fit, he matched, matched with her. The worry that bothered her had been locked for so long and he was the one with the key to unlock it and set it free. Without even meaning for it to occur, Rukia felt a tie to him, a sudden attachment that was in itself amazing. Why did the first meeting between them, feel like coming home after a long time away?

Rukia shook her head, pulling herself from her thoughts. Freeing up one of her hands from Chappy, she held it out, "Sorry, that was rather rude of me wasn't it?" She figured she should at least introduce herself before she started to ask him about why she felt as if he was someone important to her and thusly freak him out. "My name is-"

A ringing interrupted her words as the cell phone on the bench beside him went off. He glanced down at it momentarily but then looked back up at her, "Sorry."

Rukia smiled to hide the disappointment that their conversation had been interrupted, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

"I really don't want to," he sighed aloud. Deciding it best to pick up anyway, he opened his phone, bringing it up to his ear to say, "Hello?"

Rukia stood watching him, waiting for him to finish. Should she wait for him or would that be weird? In her arms, Chappy started to fidget, nudging her arm with his nose. "Fine," she said in an undertone to the rabbit.

She looked back up at the man and said goodbye before she turned about and headed back down the path.

"To cause my heart to beat this way," she resisted the urge to look back over her shoulder. "Just who are you?"

--

--

--

_May 11, 2015_

Eyes shut and fingertips pressed to her forehead, Kuchiki Rukia sat on the cushy chair in the office of her psychiatrist. "And that's the last time you felt this worry?" the psychiatrist sitting on the other side of the wooden desk said to her.

"Yes," Rukia nodded, tapping the cover of the journal between them. "It's written in here. All the dates are in here."

"All these feelings, your feeling of seeking something out, occurred on May seventeenth then?" he asked sliding the book across the table towards him.

"Yes," Rukia nodded, "And as of late, they have been getting stronger. Like I'm on the precipice of something that will change my life forever."

The psychiatrist nodded, "So every day on the seventeenth without fail you feel this way?"

"Yeah."

He leaned back in his leather chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together, "Well, if at all possible, I would like to be able to speak with you on the seventeenth to try and figure out just what is going on. What do you say?"

"Why, do you have something in mind?"

* * *

_If you're reading this, it means you have successfully made it through the chapter and are super awesome :)_

_Any questions, comments, thoughts etc, let me know!_


End file.
